


Your Cat's in my Garden

by Karlikat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapped Stiles, Kinda, Maybe - Freeform, Open Ending, Sadness, Sorry guys, but like you've got to decide for yourself, but not explicity, hence open ending, not Sterek, youve been warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:52:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9563891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karlikat/pseuds/Karlikat
Summary: Derek wasn't expecting some guy to call him at three in the morning, and he certainly wasn't expecting it to end like this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first posting!! Go me!! Nah.  
> SO. This is based on the short play, "Don't Come into the Garden, Maude".   
> I feel like I kinda did it justice?? Not sure. (It pissed off my sister tho, so that's a plus.)   
> Sorry for the sadness. (I'm really not)   
> Have fun with this!!

It was an annoying ring. It was annoying mostly because it was three in the morning, and no one should be calling at three in the morning. Derek sighed, and rolled over, ignoring the incessant ringing of his phone. If it was important, they’d leave a voicemail or call back in the morning, when real people were awake. 

His phone abruptly cut off mid-ring. Derek spared it a passing thought, grateful that whoever was on the other line finally figured out the time, and how it is not acceptable to call people at three in the morning, and hung up. He’d just gotten settled back in his bed again, and was teetering on the brink of sleep when his phone burst back into life, vibrating obnoxiously on his bedside table, threatening to fall to the floor. 

He threw his covers off with a growl, and violently grabbed his phone. He answered it with a growl, too pissed off and tired for politeness. The person on the other end didn’t even hesitate. 

“Your cat’s in my garden.”

Derek allowed himself a long sigh before hanging up. It was probably a prank call. He didn’t have a cat. He didn’t even like cats. He was preoccupied with his thoughts on the small devils before his phone started vibrating again. Automatically, he answered it, and immediately winced from his mistake.

“Your cat’s in my garden.”

Derek held his breath for 10 long seconds to calm down. After they were over, he took a breath and, as calmly as he could muster, explained, “My cat is not in your garden. You’ve got the wrong person.”

Ok. So maybe that wasn’t that calm, and came out as more of a growl then anything, but it was three in the morning, and this guy was taking a prank way to seriously. He has an excuse to be growly. 

There was a slight pause after his growled proclamation. Then; “Your cat’s in my garden.”

Now Derek was getting even more pissed off. “I don’t have a cat. I do not like cats.” (His enunciation was wicked there,) “If I had a cat, it would not be in your garden. Why do you even think it’s my cat?”

“Is this Derek Hale?” 

“Yes.” This was getting ridiculous, even for a prank. 

“Then your cat’s in my garden.”

Derek threw his free hand up in an aborted gesture of frustration. 

“I. Don’t. Have. A. Cat.”

“Yes, you do. It’s in my garden. Would you come get it back?”

“I don’t even know who you are. I’m hanging up now.” Derek violently hung up his phone, vaguely wishing he had a flip phone so it would make a more satisfying snap. He then threw himself back against his bed, wishing that the idiot wouldn’t have called, or that he had been smart and didn’t answer it in the first place. 

His phone started to ring in his hand again. He sighed and let it go. It then rang again, again, and again. He let out a string of curses and answered it, hoping beyond hope that he would be able to get this random guy to stop calling him, dammit.

“What.” Another growl. Laura would be upset with his regression into monosyllables. But then again, Laura wasn’t here. (Laura would never be able to yell at him for growling again.) Derek shook off that thought, and went back to glowering at his wall while vaguely contemplating murder. 

“My name is Stiles. Can you come get your cat?”

“Oh, for the love of- I don’t have a cat. Can you please stop calling me?” Christ, would this guy get the message?  
“But… your cat’s in my garden? I don’t really want your cat. I can’t have them- I’m allergic. Not good on the nose, you know? Or eyes for that matter. And the fur gets everywhere, which is so much work, and it causes even more allergies away from the cat-” and this is where Derek stopped listening. The guy, Stiles, (what the hell kind of a name is Stiles anyway?) kept going, rambling about allergies, or whatever, and his words were starting to get jumbled. 

“Hey,” Derek interrupted the flow of useless words, “you sound drunk.” He did. His words were too fast for him to be talking normally, and his ramblings kept going off on tangents. “It’s probably just a squirrel or something. Go to sleep.”

“I- ” Stiles stopped. “I’m not drunk. I’m underage. My dad isn’t a big fan of the underage drinking thing, ya know? Besides, it’s bigger than a squirrel, and it’s starting to freak me out man. Just come and get your cat?”

“How old are you?” Derek was now mildly concerned as well as pissed off. Was he just a kid? Whatever. Wasn’t his problem. (Nope. No matter how much he was concerned about an idiot kid.) 

“It could just be a racoon, They’re all over.”

“I’m 16. It… it could be a racoon, I guess….” 

Derek muttered a soft swear. 16? Not only is some idiot calling him at three in the morning, but the idiot is underage. Great. Just great. It’s not like it’s suspicious at all to be on the phone with someone underage, someone who can barely drive, at three in the morning. Wait, scratch that. It’s three thirty now.

“I’m going outside to see what it is. Hold on.” 

Stiles interrupted his inner monologue, and Derek’s concern crawled up another notch. 

“Is your dad home? Maybe you shouldn’t go outside- you could get bit or something. Wouldn’t want to get rabies.”  
“Nah. Dad’s on the night shift today. I should be fine, I’m just going to scare it away.”

Derek didn’t like this. A kid, home alone, with something outside? Granted, it was probably a stray or a racoon, or some other mostly defenseless furry animal, but still. It’s the principle of the matter. 

“Wait. That’s not a cat.”

Shit. 

“That’s too big for a cat….”

Double shit. 

“It’s definitely not a racoon….”

Triple shit.

“Is it… a person?”

Quadruple shit.

“No… no. It can’t- it’s too- it’s too big….”

Shit, fuck, and damn it all to hell. Abort! Abort mission!

“Stiles, get out of there. Go back to your house, lock the doors. Tell me where you live, I’ll come by and check it out for you.” Derek was now extremely concerned for this kid. He wished that he claimed the ‘cat’ as his own. Or, you know, that this idiot kid wasn’t stupid enough to go outside at practically four in the morning to look for suspicious animals. 

“No… no. You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine. I just have to see what it is, right? Conquering fears and all that jazz?” 

Idiot kid. “NO. Go back inside, you don’t know what this is, you don’t know if you’re gunna get hurt. Stiles, get out of there.” Damn, this kid was going to give Derek a heart attack. 

“I’ll be fine, seriously! I’ve got my baseball bat, I’ll be fine. It’s probably nothing anyw-”

He was abruptly cut off. Derek’s heart just about gave out in an irrational fear for this kid he didn’t even know.

“Stiles? Stiles, are you there? STILES?” 

Dead silence answered him. 

“STILES!”

An ear-shattering piercing noise came through the phone’s speakers before there was nothing but static.  
Derek yelled for Stiles again, the boy who so rudely woke him up at ass o’clock in the morning, but he knew it was futile.

Stiles was gone.


End file.
